Sense and Sensibility

Key

FID

indirect

intro to FID or indirect

Chapter 32

When the particulars of this
conversation were repeated by Miss Dashwood to her sister, as they very soon
were, the effect on her was not entirely such as the former had hoped to
see. Not that Marianne appeared to distrust the truth of any part of it, for
she listened to it all with the most steady and submissive attention, made
neither objection nor remark, attempted no vindication of Willoughby, and
seemed to shew by her tears that she felt it to be impossible. But though
this behaviour assured Elinor that the conviction of this guilt WAS carried
home to her mind, though she saw with satisfaction the effect of it, in her
no longer avoiding Colonel Brandon when he called, in her speaking to him,
even voluntarily speaking, with a kind of compassionate respect, and though
she saw her spirits less violently irritated than before, she did not see
her less wretched. Her mind did become settled, but it was settled in a
gloomy dejection. She felt the loss of Willoughby's character yet more
heavily than she had felt the loss of his heart;his seduction and
desertion of Miss Williams, the misery of that poor girl, and the doubt of
what his designs might ONCE have been on herself,preyed altogether so much on
her spirits, that she could not bring herself to speak of what she felt even
to Elinor; and, brooding over her sorrows in silence, gave more pain to her
sister than could have been communicated by the most open and most frequent
confession of them.

To give the feelings or the
language of Mrs. Dashwood on receiving and answering Elinor's letter would
be only to give a repetition of what her daughters had already felt and
said; of a disappointment hardly less painful than Marianne's, and an
indignation even greater than Elinor's. Long letters from her, quickly
succeeding each other, arrived to tell all that she suffered and thought; to
express her anxious solicitude for Marianne,and entreat she
wouldbear up with
fortitude under this misfortune.Bad indeed must the nature
of Marianne's affliction be, when her mother could talk of fortitude!
mortifying and humiliating must be the origin of those regrets, which SHE
could wish her not to indulge!

Against the interest of her
own individual comfort, Mrs. Dashwood had determined that it would be better
for Marianne to be any where, at that time, than at Barton, where every
thing within her view would be bringing back the past in the strongest and
most afflicting manner, by constantly placing Willoughby before her, such as
she had always seen him there.She recommendedit to her daughters,
therefore,by all means not to
shorten their visit to Mrs. Jennings;the length of which, though
never exactly fixed, had been expected by all to comprise at least five or
six weeks. A variety of occupations, of objects, and of company, which could
not be procured at Barton, would be inevitable there, andmight yet,she hoped,cheat Marianne, at
times, into some interest beyond herself, and even into some amusement, much
as the ideas of both might now be spurned by her.

From all danger of seeing
Willoughby again, her mother considered her to be at least equally safe in
town as in the country, since his acquaintance must now be dropped by all
who called themselves her friends. Design could never bring them in each
other's way: negligence could never leave them exposed to a surprise; and
chance had less in its favour in the crowd of London than even in the
retirement of Barton, where it might force him before her while paying that
visit at Allenham on his marriage, which Mrs. Dashwood, from foreseeing at
first as a probable event, had brought herself to expect as a certain
one.

She had yet another reason
for wishing her children to remain where they were;a letter from her
son-in-law had told her thathe and his wife were
to be in town before the middle of February,and she judged it right that
they should sometimes see their brother.

Marianne had promised to be
guided by her mother's opinion, and she submitted to it therefore without
opposition, though it proved perfectly different from what she wished and
expected, thoughshe felt it to beentirely wrong,
formed on mistaken grounds, and that by requiring her longer continuance in
London it deprived her of the only possible alleviation of her wretchedness,
the personal sympathy of her mother, and doomed her to such society and such
scenes as must prevent her ever knowing a moment's rest.

But it was a matter of great
consolation to her, thatwhat brought evil to
herself would bring good to her sister;and Elinor, on the other
hand, suspecting that it would not be in her power to avoid Edward entirely,
comforted herself bythinking, that though their longer
stay would therefore militate against her own happiness, it would be better
for Marianne than an immediate return into Devonshire.

Her carefulness in guarding
her sister from ever hearing Willoughby's name mentioned, was not thrown
away. Marianne, though without knowing it herself, reaped all its advantage;
for neither Mrs. Jennings, nor Sir John, nor even Mrs. Palmer herself, ever
spoke of him before her. Elinor wished that the same forbearance could have
extended towards herself, but that was impossible, and she was obliged to
listen day after day to the indignation of them all.

Sir John, could not have
thought it possible. "A man of whom he had
always had such reason to think well! Such a good-natured fellow! He did not
believe there was a bolder rider in England! It was an unaccountable
business. He wished him at the devil with all his heart. He would not speak
another word to him, meet him where he might, for all the world! No, not if
it were to be by the side of Barton covert, and they were kept watching for
two hours together. Such a scoundrel of a fellow! such a deceitful dog! It
was only the last time they met that he had offered him one of Folly's
puppies! and this was the end of it!"

Mrs. Palmer, in her way, was
equally angry.She was determined to drop
his acquaintance immediately, and she was very thankful that she had never
been acquainted with him at all. She wished with all her heart Combe Magna
was not so near Cleveland; but it did not signify, for it was a great deal
too far off to visit; she hated him so much that she was resolved never to
mention his name again, and she should tell everybody she saw, how
good-for-nothing he was."

The rest of Mrs. Palmer's
sympathy was shewn in procuring all the particulars in her power of the
approaching marriage, and communicating them to Elinor. She could soon tell
at what coachmaker's the new carriage was building, by what painter Mr.
Willoughby's portrait was drawn, and at what warehouse Miss Grey's clothes
might be seen.

The calm and polite
unconcern of Lady Middleton on the occasion was a happy relief to Elinor's
spirits, oppressed as they often were by the clamorous kindness of the
others. It was a great comfort to her to be sure of exciting no interest in
ONE person at least among their circle of friends: a great comfort to know
that there was ONE who would meet her without feeling any curiosity after
particulars, or any anxiety for her sister's health.

Every qualification is
raised at times, by the circumstances of the moment, to more than its real
value; and she was sometimes worried down by officious condolence to rate
good-breeding as more indispensable to comfort than good-nature.

Lady Middleton expressed her
sense of the affair about once every day, or twice, if the subject occurred
very often, by saying,"It is very shocking,
indeed!"and by the means of this
continual though gentle vent, was able not only to see the Miss Dashwoods
from the first without the smallest emotion, but very soon to see them
without recollecting a word of the matter; and having thus supported the
dignity of her own sex, and spoken her decided censure of what was wrong in
the other, she thought herself at liberty to attend to the interest of her
own assemblies, and therefore determined (though rather against the opinion
of Sir John) that as Mrs. Willoughby would at once be a woman of elegance
and fortune, to leave her card with her as soon as she married.

Colonel Brandon's delicate,
unobtrusive enquiries were never unwelcome to Miss Dashwood. He had
abundantly earned the privilege of intimate discussion of her sister's
disappointment, by the friendly zeal with which he had endeavoured to soften
it, and they always conversed with confidence. His chief reward for the
painful exertion of disclosing past sorrows and present humiliations, was
given in the pitying eye with which Marianne sometimes observed him, and the
gentleness of her voice whenever (though it did not often happen) she was
obliged, or could oblige herself to speak to him. THESE assured him that his
exertion had produced an increase of good-will towards himself, and THESE
gave Elinor hopes of its being farther augmented hereafter; but Mrs.
Jennings, who knew nothing of all this, who knew only that the Colonel
continued as grave as ever, and that she could neither prevail on him to
make the offer himself, nor commission her to make it for him, began, at the
end of two days,to think that,
instead of Midsummer, they would not be married till Michaelmas,and by the end of a
weekthatit would not be a
match at all.The good understanding
between the Colonel and Miss Dashwood seemed rather to declare that the
honours of the mulberry-tree, the canal, and the yew arbour, would all be
made over to HER; and Mrs. Jennings had, for some time ceased to think at
all of Mrs. Ferrars.

Early in February, within a
fortnight from the receipt of Willoughby's letter, Elinor had the painful
office ofinforming her sister
thathe was
married.She had taken care to have
the intelligence conveyed to herself, as soon as it was known that the
ceremony was over, as she was desirous that Marianne should not receive the
first notice of it from the public papers, which she saw her eagerly
examining every morning.

She received the news with
resolute composure; made no observation on it, and at first shed no tears;
but after a short time they would burst out, and for the rest of the day,
she was in a state hardly less pitiable than when she first learnt to expect
the event.

The Willoughbys left town as
soon as they were married; and Elinor now hoped, as there could be no danger
of her seeing either of them, to prevail on her sister, who had never yet
left the house since the blow first fell, to go out again by degrees as she
had done before.

About this time the two Miss
Steeles, lately arrived at their cousin's house in Bartlett's Buildings,
Holburn, presented themselves again before their more grand relations in
Conduit and Berkeley Streets; and were welcomed by them all with great
cordiality.

Elinor only was sorry to see
them. Their presence always gave her pain, and she hardly knew how to make a
very gracious return to the overpowering delight of Lucy in finding her
STILL in town.

"I should have been
quite disappointed if I had not found you here STILL," said she repeatedly,
with a strong emphasis on the word. "But I always thought I
SHOULD. I was almost sure you would not leave London yet awhile; though
you TOLD me, you know, at Barton, that you should not stay above a
MONTH. But I thought, at the time, that you would most likely change
your mind when it came to the point. It would have been such a great
pity to have went away before your brother and sister came. And now to
be sure you will be in no hurry to be gone. I am amazingly glad you did
not keep to YOUR WORD."

Elinor perfectly understood
her, and was forced to use all her self-command to make it appear that she
did NOT.

"Well, my dear," said Mrs.
Jennings,"and how did you
travel?"

"Not in the stage, I
assure you," replied Miss Steele,
with quick exultation;"we came post all the
way, and had a very smart beau to attend us. Dr. Davies was coming to
town, and so we thought we'd join him in a post-chaise; and he behaved
very genteelly, and paid ten or twelve shillings more than we
did."

"Oh, oh!" cried Mrs.
Jennings;"very pretty, indeed! and the
Doctor is a single man, I warrant you."

"There now,"said Miss Steele,
affectedly simpering,"everybody laughs at me
so about the Doctor, and I cannot think why.My cousins saythey are sure I
have made a conquest;but for my part I declare
I never think about him from one hour's end to another.'Lord! here comes
your beau, Nancy,'my cousin said t'other
day,when she saw him crossing
the street to the house. My beau, indeed! said I — I cannot think
who you mean. The Doctor is no beau of mine."

"Aye, aye, that is very
pretty talking — but it won't do — the Doctor is the man, I
see."

"No, indeed!"replied her cousin, with
affected earnestness,"and I beg you will
contradict it, if you ever hear it talked of."

Mrs. Jennings directly gave
her the gratifying assurance that she certainly would NOT, and Miss Steele
was made completely happy.

"I suppose you will go and
stay with your brother and sister, Miss Dashwood, when they come to
town,"said Lucy, returning, after
a cessation of hostile hints, to the charge.

"No, I do not think we
shall."

"Oh, yes, I dare say you
will."

Elinor would not humour her
by farther opposition.

"What a charming thing it is
that Mrs. Dashwood can spare you both for so long a time together!"

"Long a time,
indeed!"interposed Mrs.
Jennings. "Why, their visit is
but just begun!"

Lucy was silenced.

"I am sorry we cannot see
your sister, Miss Dashwood,"said Miss Steele."I am sorry she is not
well — "for Marianne had left the
room on their arrival.

"You are very good. My sister
will be equally sorry to miss the pleasure of seeing you; but she has been
very much plagued lately with nervous head-aches, which make her unfit for
company or conversation."

"Oh, dear, that is a great
pity! but such old friends as Lucy and me! — I think she might see US;
and I am sure we would not speak a word."

Elinor, with great civility,
declined the proposal. Her sister was perhaps laid down upon the bed, or in
her dressing gown, and therefore not able to come to them.

"Oh, if that's all," cried Miss
Steele,"we can just as well go
and see HER."

Elinor began to find this
impertinence too much for her temper; but she was saved the trouble of
checking it, by Lucy's sharp reprimand, which now, as on many occasions,
though it did not give much sweetness to the manners of one sister, was of
advantage in governing those of the other.